Inter Canem et Lupum Remastered
by exacerbatedEmbarrassment
Summary: [redo of old story holla holla] Ryou Bakura's life is not simple. After waking up in distantly familiar territory called Privet Drive and witnessing a dementor attack, he is mistaken for a wizard and evacuated from the area, throwing him into a twist of plots he doesn't understand. Add in a magic school and the spirit of the millenium ring and you get one confused Bakura.


5/9/14

Hey what's up doggs just me here chillin writing nerdy as fuck fanfiction instead of writing an essay that was due last week holla

Real quick this is a re-write of a fic I wrote way back in 2010 because it's throwback Thursday holla holla and people seemed to like it

Yeah so the spirit of the hella ring is gonna be more of a byronic hero than a villain as he was in baby inter canem et lupum because I have grown to love tendershipping with an incredible passion despite my previous hatred for it

Anyway here's my shit swagg

Nothing made sense. But then again, nothing ever did and Ryou Bakura should probably have been used to it. Things not making sense, that is.

Putting a clammy hand to his pounding head, Ryou allowed a soft "ugh..." to escape from his disused windpipe, slowly pulling himself up from where he found himself laying in a dark, damp alley. As he carefully climbed to his feet, Ryou attempted to discern what exactly had happened and where exactly he was.

Ryou Bakura knew the protocol by heart.

First thing to do in situations like these, of course, is to check for injuries.

Alright, seems like appendages and phalanges are all accounted for. Face is a little sticky. Muscles sore. Hungry. Tired. Very hungry.

Next, make sure the scene is safe.

Ryou scanned the alley, making sure he was alone. Dim light from street lamps nearby illuminated his disgusting predicament; his biggest immediate threat was broken bottles.

Once the scene has been deemed safe, get to familiar territory.

This was the tricky part. Stumbling out of the alley, Ryou grasped at the brick wall he woke up propped up against and nearly ran into a burly man apparently on a midnight stroll.

"Watch where yer goin', mate!" The man spat. In English. After shooting Ryou a condemning glance, the man continued on his way.

He spat. In English.

Fuck.

Ryou was officially panicking. He was spoken to in a distinctly British accent, one he hadn't heard in years, and the only reasonable conclusions he could dredge up were that either he stumbled into a foreigner (unlikely given the time of year; winter in Japan wasn't terribly popular), or he had been dragged to Europe. Ryou was much more inclined to believe the latter.

Reeling in a deep breath, the whitenette tried to stand up a little straighter in the half-light of dim street lamps to appear less conspicuous as he took baby steps toward the nearest intersection. Street names were a good place to start in pinpointing location.

As it happened, Ryou was next to a corner store just outside of a rather wealthy looking neighbourhood.

The street sign read "March Ave." which ruled out quite a few countries and territories. What bothered Ryou, though, was how eerily familiar everything seemed. And then the memories hit him in a wave.

His parents, both alive and happy, his little sister, also very much with the living and very much happy, together with him in a little house on a street called Privet Drive. Going to the corner store for ice cream in the summer. Laughing in the yard, playing games with friends. Waking up surrounded by unresponsive friends. Getting slapped by his father for doing it again. Packing bags in a whirlwind, being thrown into a car.

Then the sounds of metal scraping and bending. Crying. Bones breaking. Blood.

Ryou shuddered and shook his head. He had to stay calm. Panic would only kill him faster.

If he remembered correctly, his father never sold the house on Privet Drive. Too many memories were stored inside to hand off to a stranger. How lucky for him, then, to have been body dropped so close to an old home. The spirit must have rifled through his memories more.

Once again taking in a deep breath, Ryou began his small journey.

Everything looked the same. The same cookie cutter houses with the same cookie cutter trees in the same cookie cutter lawns. But he knew he would be able to pick his old home out from the rest. His, after all, would be in a state of disrepair as it was highly unlikely that his father had bothered to hire any maintenance.

His assumptions were correct. The lawn appeared to have been mowed a month or so ago, probably by an irritated neighbour, tired of the rickety house uglying up the street. A few windows were broken. Some kind of bird had made a few nests along the siding out of mud; a barn swallow, perhaps. A wasp nest hung from a corner. Leaves had collected in the gutters, and the once cheerful yellow of the house had faded to a dismal beige.

There was still a dent in the siding from where Amane's body had been launched from the car.

Shuddering, Ryou carefully opened the screeching gate and padded silently up to the front door. Time for muscle memory to do its job. It only took Ryou a minute or so to pick the lock on the door, and even less to close and relock it behind him.

The living room looked exactly as it had when he left, only the furniture was covered in dusty white sheets. Ryou couldn't care less at the moment. He tore the sheet off of the couch sitting in the middle of the room and collapsed onto his new bed, trying his best to fall asleep.

Harry Potter was miffed.

He had spent all summer either alone in his bedroom or alone at the park and the only word he received from his so-called "friends" was the occasional non-committal letter. He had gotten nothing from Dumbledore.

Glancing about his room, he disinterestedly took in his Hogwarts trunk, still packed from the moment he returned to the Dursleys' at the beginning of summer.

Harry Potter was angry, yes, but most of all he was bored.

Well. Shacking up in his rather bland bedroom would do him no good. It was time for his daily walk anyway.

Harry pulled on his regular jeans and oversized hand-me-down t-shirt and jogging shoes and quietly left the house uninterrupted, deciding on his regular route to the local park.

The first thing Harry noticed upon stepping outside was that it was hot as bloody hell. Briefly considering turning back inside to take a nap or something, the boy quickly turned that train of thought down as his only other option, really, was to be screamed at by his family. Onward he went.

Although trees lined the sidewalk, they were rather young and were just small enough to not produce any notable shade. The Boy-Who-Lived tried to milk temperature relief from them nonetheless. In any case, there were ample trees at his park, especially over his favorite swing to look forward to.

With a soft sigh of relief, Harry came to the entrance to the park and was approaching his swingset when he stopped dead in surprise.

There, in the swing he usually sat in himself, was a rather odd figure. All Harry could see was a slim physique and flowing, long white hair that tumbled over narrow shoulders. Piano hands gripped the chains suspending the swing tightly as whoever this person was mumbled to themselves. Nearly skeletal arms found their way from the hands and into the pale blue sleeves of what appeared to be, at least from the back, a button up shirt. Similar legs hung limply to the ground, hugged by gray nearly-skinny jeans. Harry decided without question that this new, unfamiliar person was a rather pretty girl.

A rather pretty girl who had never met him, and therefore did not know what a freak he was.

As a lonely teenage boy whose friends had abandoned him far away, Harry was ready to jump at the chance of new friendship.

"Um, hi," he began, slightly nervous. The figure started and turned, revealing large (albeit somewhat vacant) doe brown eyes and a rather gaunt, androgynous face. "I haven't seen you around before. You wouldn't have happened to move into that old yellow house?" Good, very normal.

Staring wide-eyed at Harry, the girl nodded shortly. "Y-yes. I lived there when I was very young, and decided to come back for a visit." Standing up and turning around ('she's even flatter than Ginny!'), she held out her hand. "I'm Ryou Bakura."

Taking her long fingers, Harry replied with a "Harry. Harry Potter." Just in time to hear his burly cousin and his goons approaching, already jeering.

"Well, well, Potty! Looks like you've found yourself a girlfriend. And she's just as much of a freak as you! What a perfect match." The goons laughed hysterically, spittle flying from their lips. Both Harry and Ryou spluttered indignantly.

"G-girlfriend?" Ryou screeched. With a scowl reminiscent of the spirit etched onto his face, he spat, "I'm not a girl!" And with that, he stomped off in the direction of his new home.

After staring in shock for several moments, the rowdy group of boys plus Harry turned to eachother with malice in their eyes.

"Well! I didn't know you were a faggot, Potty!" Jeered Dudley. "Can't say I'm too surprised."

"Shut up, Dudley. You know perfectly well that that isn't true." Harry ground out, trying to act civil lest he lose his temper.

A short, one-sided scuffle ensued in which Harry received a bloody nose (though thankfully not broken) and the brutes escaped unscathed. Once the excitement had been drained from the situation, Dudley Dursley's friends dispersed.

"Sorry, Big-D. I gotta go before my mum calls the cops on me again," said one remorsefully. A chorus of "yeah"s and "me too"s arose.

And then there were two.

Dudley managed to open his mouth before the clouds came in, dark and cold. A feeling of complete devastation fell upon the two boys, both of whom grew pale in the sudden darkness. Harry knew what this feeling was; he had felt it before.

"Dudley, we have to run! Now!" Harry screamed, grabbing his whale of a cousin's wrist and taking off down through the park and down the road. In his surprise, Dudley allowed the contact and dumbly followed.

The pair sprinted through the street beneath flickering street lamps and came to a well lit tunnel. Stopping for breath, panting, Harry leant against the concrete wall and glanced at his cousin. He knew they couldn't hide forever, but hoped he had bought them enough time for a wizard to notice what was happening.

He should have known he was never that lucky.

Ryou stomped down the street, thoroughly pissed at the recent turn of events. He didn't really look that feminine, did he? Maybe it was time to cut his hair...

No. He refused, pushing that thought to the furthest reaches of his mind. He would never even come close to being bald.

Just as he was about to turn the corner onto his street, a deep chill came over him. Dark gray clouds washed over the sky, obscuring the setting sun and punting him into darkness. He suddenly felt compressed and alone, suffocating.

From somewhere in his head, Ryou heard a shout of "Run! Host, move your ass!" and took off without question.

He came to a stop next to a tunnel when he heard a scream. Peering around the corner, Ryou saw some kind of ghostly shade hovering over the fat kid, Harry shakily pointing a stick at it. Before he could do anything, however, a second mystery monster decended from above and made to move for Ryou.

The effects were immediate. Every horrible thing that had ever happened, every betrayal by friends, every blow and accusation from his father, every instant of pain and loneliness he had ever experienced suddenly washed over him. Giving a soft cry, Ryou stumbled back and unconsciously retreated to the relative safety of his soul room.

The spirit was left to deal with the mess his host had gotten them into.

Actively shutting the effects of the monster out of his mind, the spirit clenched his fists and opened a connection to the shadow realm, allowing the shadows to spring up and circle around his feet with what could have been construed as adoration. The dementor seemed to flinch back in panic as the spirit threw out his arm and silently commanded the shadows to attack. This panic was short-lived, however, as the lance of shadow pierced its flittering cloak. The dementor evaporated into a dark mist, almost invisible in the darkness.

He was finished with the monster just in time to glance back over at Harry, who was shaking even more violently. The boy screamed something that sounded like "expect a patron," leaving Bakura confused for only a second before a spectral stag leapt from Harry's stick. The effect was immediate. The monster fled the scene in terror, leaving Harry to fall back onto his elbows, gasping for breath. The other boy was on all fours, puking up the contents of his stomach.

"Ryou...?" Harry said in shock. Bakura grinned, realizing his beloved shadows were still swirling around his legs, carressing his ankles.

Luckily, a rather stout woman made her entrance at that moment from the other end of the tunnel and quickly began to fuss over Harry, introducing herself as Mrs. Figg. Bakura vaguely recognized her from Ryou's memories, and took his chance to make his exit.

After returning to Ryou's house, the spirit relinquished control, quickly losing interest. In stumbled his hikari, feeling just as bad as he had before the spirit had taken over. Walking shakily toward his couch, Ryou managed to fall roughly onto the cushions before tossing and turning in a fit of half-sleep and nightmares.

Needless to say, Ryou was awake before the sun. Still feeling like he had been run over by an emotional truck and then pummeled by a feelings train, he stayed in bed. And stayed in bed some more. Eventually, the sun was tired of watching his lazy ass and began to set, and still, Ryou had not moved.

/Hikari, please get up./ The spirit tried once more to shake Ryou from his stupor. With a flash, he exited the Ring and took on an incorporeal state, one only his light could see. Waving a transparent hand in front of Ryou's eyes, the spirit continued to yell insults and encouragement alike before the seldom blinking gaze of the other. /By the gods, you're just as bad as the Pharoah, aren't you?/ He finally shouted in exasperation. /Lazy, weak, and certainly not worth my fucking time!/ That seemed to have an effect on Ryou.

With a sniffle, the boy finally broke down in tears and, turning away from the spirit, choked out, "I know! Bakura, I get it!"

Now Bakura just felt bad. /Hey, I didn't mean it,/ he said uncertainly, /just. Calm down, okay?/ His host was never so weak. Something was definitely causing this.

Just then, a hesitant knock came from the door not ten feet away. "Ryou?" A voice called. "Um. Are you alright? I think we should talk about yesterday." The voice called. Bakura identified it as that Harry kid.

/Host, get up! Your friend is at the door!/ Finally ceasing crying, Ryou turned back around on the couch and weakly called out, "go 'way."

"Listen!" Harry yelled through the door. "What you're probably feeling right now is an effect of the dementors, the monsters you saw last night. I can help, you just have to let me in."

Sighing heavily, Ryou swung his legs over off of the couch and stood up unsteadily, taking baby steps toward the door. Cracking it open, he looked out at Harry, who was smiling nervously.

"Come in." Ryou said flatly.

"Thanks, um." After taking in Ryou's thoroughly disheveled appearance, Harry took a chocolate bar out of his pocket and offered it to the other boy. "I think you need this more than I do." At Ryou's flat look, he added, "It's weird, but it helps a ton. Just try it."

Sighing again (he sure was doing a lot of that lately) Ryou took the candy bar and treated himself to a small nibble. Instantly, a great deal of the depression lifted and he finally realized how ravenous he was; he hadn't eaten in over a day.

Downing the rest of the chocolate, Ryou smiled greatfully at Harry. "You're right, that is weird." He gave an embarrassed giggle. "Oh! Let me get you some tea. Sit down!"

Harry, too, laughed nervously and sat down. "I don't know what it is about chocolate that reverses the effects of the dementors. Magic, I guess. Speaking of," Harry began as Ryou walked back in after putting a kettle on the stove, "I'm sure you're pretty confused right now."

Ryou smiled. "I've seen stranger things."

"Oh, so you're a wizard then?" Harry was surprised, though he supposed he shouldn't have been given his new friend's rather strange appearance. "I thought I was the only one in this neighbourhood."

"I wasn't aware magic was this common. Common being relative, of course."

"Wait, have you never been to school?" The thought of an untrained wizard was odd, to say the least. Certainly not something he had ever heard of.

Ryou cocked his head and looked at Harry, thoroughly confused. "There are schools that teach magic? To children?" The magic he was familiar with was violent, unstable, and dangerous. Nothing he would ever entust to a child.

"Well, yeah. Everyone who has magic needs to go. They send out letters through some kind of detection system, I think. No one ever gets missed."

Ryou nodded slowly. This was news to him, and from the skeptical gaze the spirit was shooting Harry, it was to him as well. "I suppose there's a first time for everything."

"So do you not have a wand? Can you do wandless magic?" Harry asked curiously.

"Um. You use wands?" It wasn't making any sense. "Is that what that was, with the deer?"

"Stag, yeah."

"Maybe we're not talking about the same thing," Ryou mumbled to himself. "Maybe there are different kinds of magic? Maybe their's is more evolved?"

Having caught most of what the whitenette said, Harry raised a single eyebrow. "I've never heard of anything like that."

The two sat in silence for a moment before the forgotten kettle shrieked. Shooting up, Ryou quickly walked into the open kitchen and poured tea for the both of them. Tea had, of course, been the first thing he bought the morning after waking up there.

Setting both cups down on the coffee table, Ryou sat down himself and looked questioningly at Harry.

"So. What exactly can this magic of yours do?"

Harry thought for a minute. "You can levitate things, transfigure things, shoot offensive spells and counter them with defensive spells... basically anything, really. Why? What can you do?"

"I can..." Ryou paused. What should he tell him? Figuring he had nothing to lose, he said, "I can control the shadows, but that's pretty much it."

That settled it. They were definitely not talking about the same thing.

"What does that mean?"

/Don't give him anything else, host./ The spirit appeared beside him, and Ryou tried to hide his surprise by acting like his tea was too hot.

Ryou shrugged carefully. "Maybe I'll show you one day." He was definitely not going to show him anything, but Harry seemed to accept his answer.

They finished their tea in relative silence, both their shoulders heavy with questions but neither of them willing to ask. Harry stood up after a moment.

"It's getting pretty late. I should probably go." He said, pointing absently toward the door.

"Yes, I would hate to have someone worried about you." Ryou smiled brightly. "Thank you so much for stopping by."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah, it was fun." He then left the odd boy to his night.

Harry awoke with a start. Someone was in his house.

Looking over toward his bedside table, he found the clock to read 2:35 AM. Optimal burglary hour. Silently drawing his wand, Harry got out of bed and positioned himself against the wall beside his door. Years of DADA had prepared him for this moment, and he would not disappoint.

He heard several pairs footsteps coming up the stairs, and soon after, voices.

"Merlin's beard, you'd think they were trying to hide a body with all these locks!" Came a faintly familiar voice, muffled by the door. Harry tensed when he heard the same voice mutter "Alohamora," followed by the sound of a variety of locks clicking out of place. The door slowly creaked open.

"Professor Lupin?" Harry cried, gears turning in his head. "Please tell me you're going to take me away from here!"

Lupin jumped, startled by hearing Harry's voice so close to him. "Goodness, Harry, you scared me." Placing a hand to his chest, he continued, "Yes. We need to take you to Padfoot's house to prepare for your trial.

"Trial...?" Harry asked, unsure.

"We'll explain later. For now, we need to leave; it's not safe here anymore."

More confused than ever, Harry looked at the small group of wizards clustered around his door. Lupin, a woman with bubblegum pink hair, a dark skinned man, and someone who he recognized immediately.

Noticing his surprise and distrust, Moody grinned widely at the boy. "I'm the real one, this time, boy. No need for all the suspicion."

Harry had no time to reply as he was pushed to grab his belongings and his trunk. The pink haired woman, identified as Tonks ("Just Tonks"), was volunteered to help him. Soon enough, they had everything packed and had bounded down the staircase and out the front door.

"It's not safe here anymore, Harry," Lupin started. "The wards weren't as strong as we thought they were. We've evacuated the witches and wizards in this area." He paused. "You did take care of that, Moody?" He asked.

"Figg, Parsons, Harrison. All escorted out." Moody grunted.

"What about Ryou Bakura?" Harry blurted, worried about his friend.

"Who...?" Lupin looked surprised, to say the least. Tonks muttered something about not knowing anything anymore.

"If we leave him here, he could be killed, right? We can't just let that happen, we need to do something!" Harry said worriedly. "Maybe we could take him with us?"

The adults around him looked ready to object whole-heartedly, but after brief consideration, Lupin realized they might have no other choice. All of them were needed to ensure Harry was transported safely, leaving no option for someone to take this Ryou person to a different safe location. Lupin sighed.

"Do you trust this boy, Harry?" He asked firmly. Harry nodded without hesitation. "Where is his house?"

"It's right acoss the street. The yellow one."

"Alright, stay here then. Tonks, Kingsly, cover Harry. I'll be right back." Sprinting across the street, Lupin threw a spell at the locked door and slipped inside.

Sleeping on the couch, he could see, was a head of long white hair huddled beneath several blankets. The head began to stir, groggy for only a second before the boy looked up swiftly and threw himself over the back of the couch, running toward the kitchen to where a variety of knives were hidden.

"Wait! Listen, we have no time. You're in danger if you stay here." Lupin started, trying to placate the startled teen.

"Really?" The boy shot back, venom dripping from the word. "Sorry, but I don't blindly follow strangers when asked."

Lupin exhaled quickly in frustration. "You know of the dementor attack last night, correct?" Ryou, possessed by the spirit, nodded sharply. "More will come, only humans will be with them. You can't stay here."

Considering the man's words, the spirit hastily made a decision. "Make one wrong move, and I won't hesitate to... Defend myself."

Ignoring the blatant threat for now, Lupin nodded his head. "Grab only a few belongings, quickly."

"Done." The spirit snorted, spreading his arms with a smirk on his face.

With no time to be surprised, the other man shrugged. "Parents? Family?"

The spirit gave another amused snort. "Just me."

Sprinting back across the street, Ryou, who had been shoved back in control, shot Harry a soft smile.

"Alright, the portkey is going to activate in thirty seconds!" Moody yelled, producing a surprisingly ordinary pack of gum. Looking to Harry and Ryou, he added, "Hold on like your life depends on it, which it does."

As he latched onto the gum, Ryou wondered idly where they were going. He supposed it didn't matter much.


End file.
